Vows
by lurknomore
Summary: Zach/Kendall. Zach thinks about weddings and takes a vow during his third wedding to Kendall.


The rings are burning a hole in his pocket.

He has never wanted a scotch so badly in his life.

The justice of the peace calls over the witness. He half listens to the brief words, his mind busy with other images.

Other Kendalls. Other weddings. Other Zachs.

"I take thee in anger; in revenge, in triumph." She'd worn blue. Her eyes were cool, they had met his in challenge and relief. He had smirked back, secure that they both had what they wanted: freedom from entanglements in the bonds of marriage. She'd worn blue and he was going to free Ethan from the Cambias legacy.

"I take thee in love, in joy, in happiness." She'd worn ivory. Her eyes were filled with love and happiness – she had glowed. He had basked in the glow, convinced that nothing and no one would ever part them. She'd worn ivory and he had never been so happy.

"I take thee in desperation, in resignation, in despair." She is wearing black. The green eyes are a mystery he cannot solve - is it because he no longer knows her, or is he afraid to look too closely? He wonders how his mother looked at his father on their wedding day – did she ever love him? Desire him? Or did she already feel the same sort of resigned desperation he thinks he sees in Kendall now? He shoves the thought away, because he is NOT his father.

But Kendall is wearing black, and he is in hell.

The minister says something about rings and Kendall looks lost. He sees a flash of the other Kendall, the one in white, and of the glee in her face when she brought out that ridiculous diamond for him to put on her finger. He shoves the image away. "I have them," he says, reaching to where the rings lie, mocking him with their cold fire and their symbolism and their very blankness. He catches himself wondering where the other rings are, the ones that were scored and weighted and marked with a promise neither of them could keep.

Three weddings to this one woman. And all three times, he remembers now, as he takes her hand to put yet another ring on her finger, part of him could not and cannot stop thinking that she is HIS. His to cherish, his to honor, his to guard.

His to take.

His wife.

His.

Not Ryan's. Never Ryan's. _His._

He should have known how it would end when he first felt that flash of possession. Cambias men hold what they take. It is their way, and Zach has never been able to deny, to himself at least, that he is a Cambias monster in all the ways that count.

The beast within stirs as Zach takes her hand. Zach shakes his head slightly, telling the beast to go back to sleep.

Her hand is cold; it trembles a little as the plain ring slips easily on to her finger. The beast within mutters and Zach drops her hand, hoping that will quiet it.

The beast settles and Zach breathes a sigh of relief.

But then Kendall swallows, takes his ring from the minister, and takes his hand between both of hers.

The beast feels her touch and starts to growl. It remembers that touch; remembers what comes next. Possession. Happiness. Belonging.

Zach tries to tell it no, that this is a cheat, that she is not theirs. Not this time.

The beast stops, listening. Zach is relieved; the beast must feel the difference too.

But then the ring slides into place. Its weight is familiar and alien at the same time. Since he threw his ring so defiantly away, his hand has not felt like his hand. He would move to play with the ring that had rested there so long, and he was always surprised by its absence. His hand was free but leaden. Now he feels anchored again.

But the anchor is a cheat, and as his hand closes over the ring, the beast springs free.

He feels it starting to howl. "Mine," it keens. "Mine!" He is holding it back; telling it no, she is not theirs, not this time. But the beast knows differently. All three Kendalls, all three Zachs, and this one truth that is eternal.

She is his.

Kendall looks at him questioningly. Surely, he thinks, she can feel it too; that she is his and he is hers. The beast knows – she must as well. He has always felt it in her, the knowledge of what they are together.

But then he remembers that mere minutes ago she had vowed to another man that she loved only him.

The beast roars in anger. He hears the justice begin to say that he can kiss his bride. Kendall blinks, looking oddly hopeful and yet terrified.

Oh, he wants to kiss her. He wants to drag her off, take her, remind her of all they have and can be. The beast is raging now: it cannot be tamed, not this time. The justice's voice is a dim echo of the tumult in his mind and heart.

Because he knows that she is not his, no matter what the beast is howling.

He sees all the Kendalls and all the countless kisses: from that brief, cold kiss on the cheek at their first wedding through the last desperate time they made love, to the kiss at Ian's bedside when he discovered that he could never touch her again because it hurt too much to remember what he had lost. So he had denied her, denied any feeling at all. It was his last, desperate gamble to quiet the storm within.

And so he had beaten back the monster, telling it and himself over and over that he no longer cared what she did. And he believed it, was sure that nothing had changed since that day, that slipping another ring on her hand would not wake the possessive monster within.

He was wrong. The Cambias beast is free.

So he leaves before the man has even finished his sentence. Leaves Kendall and the justice of the peace. in unhurried haste, because the beast must be mastered and put back on its leash before he goes near her again.

Because if the beast takes hold of her, he will never release her again, no matter what she thinks she wants.

He prays to God, the Devil and all the powers above and below that he has the strength to do both: hold the Cambias beast back, and leave her free.

Surely that is one vow he can keep.


End file.
